Brothers in Arms
by firestorm557
Summary: caught in a blizzard with a creature on their tail, the winchester boys must help each other through injuries and long ingnored fears. rated T for later chapters...
1. Chapter 1

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A/N: hey guys. this is a peice that i started a couple of months ago and then i kind of lost my muse for a while. but i have finally caught up with him and the ideas are churning and ready to go. i have a couple of stories that i am starting to get in the works. but because i started this a while ago, there may be some points in the coming chapters that might now flow quite as nicely as i would like, cause i am still trying to get my thoughts together on this one. but read and enjoy! this is just a little chapter to wet your appetites while i peice together the rest. oh, and i don't know how much the title is going to play into the story. basically it was the only thing that i could come up with at the time. thanks for your patience, and enjoy Brothers in Arms!

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**Brothers in Arms **

**Chapter 1 **

There was snow everywhere, more than a foot deep in some places. And it was still coming down, hard, and showed no signs of stopping. Sam stumbled a little, his foot catching on a root submerged in the snow, almost falling to his knees, and almost taking the near dead weight of his brother down with him. The creature they had just fought had clawed Dean up pretty good, not to mention gave him a fairly nasty bump on his head. Sam could just make out the shape of the old farmhouse in the distance. It had to me about 1 ½ miles away still, and judging from how heavy Dean suddenly seemed to feel and how ragged his breathing was becoming, he knew that his bother didn't stand a chance of making it that far. Hell, he would be lucky if he could keep Dean walking for the next 5 minutes.

So Sam had two options. One, keep heading straight for the house and probably end up carrying him there for most of the way, or two, to veer left and head for the barn that was about ¼ mile away and probably end up carrying Dean there for most of the way. The barn won. And as predicted, Dean didn't last that much longer on his feet, and Sam was never more grateful for the close proximity of the barn than he was at that moment. Carrying over 200 lbs of soaking wet, unconscious brother when he could barely feel his limbs to begin with was not at all an easy feat.

Kicking one of the side doors open, he propped Dean up against the far wall before going back to close the door. Only when he was back at his brother's side did he bother to look at his surroundings. Even though the place had been abandoned for about a month, there was still some hay that they could probably use to make some sort of fire with. There were various tools hanging on the wall, and some empty crates lying around, and a thin, moth-eaten horse blanket lying in the corner that probably should have been thrown away years ago. Not much in the helpful department, but at this point he would take what he could get.

He also started to take notice of his own injuries. His head felt like there was a marching band going through it, and as he felt the back of his head he found a bump that probably matched Deans pretty nicely. He knew that he had a couple of bruised ribs, if the pain in his chest was any indication, and the slow burning on his back probably indicated that he had not escaped the creatures claws entirely. But Dean had gotten it far worse. Shaking loose the cobwebs that seemed to be forming over his mind, his attention was brought back to his brother.

Shaking out the dusty blanket he went back and kneeled next to Dean. He hadn't noticed before, but now saw that Dean had lost his jacket some where along the way, and now he was soaked through and shivering violently. Sam quickly divested himself of his jacket and outer shirts, and did the same to Dean. He ignored the gashes that littered Dean's torso. Those he would worry about later. Right now he needed to warm Dean up and have him wake up and say something sarcastic because in all honesty, the silence that surrounded the two brothers was starting to freak him out a little. He shifted Dean until he was lying between Sam's legs, his back against Sam's chest. Even though Sam still had on his t-shirt, she could instantly feel the chill of his brother's skin. He pulled the blanket over them, ignoring the musty smell, and wrapped his arms tightly around his brother. Unconsciously he started rubbing his brothers arms, hoping that the seeming soothing motions would quicken Deans return to the land of the awake.

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so what did you guys think? love it? hate it? left confused and unsure? well review the darn thing and let me know! 


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: here is chapter 2! thank you all for your wonderful reviews, i'm glad that so many people are interested in this story. work is incredibly busy this week, so i don't know how often i will be able to update this, but i swear that i will try to do it as quickly as possible. so without further adu, here is chapter 2! (ha ha i rhymed!)

Disclaimer: i forgot to do this with the first chapter, but needless to say the winchester boys are not mine, but alas, a girl can dream...

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Brothers in Arms **

**Chapter 2 **

"Come on Dean. You have to wake up now. What's that you're always saying? There's time to sleep when you're dead? Well you're not dead so I need you to open your eyes now, okay?"

But Dean did not stir. Sam kept murmuring things to Dean, laying out a trial with his words, a path that he hoped Dean would pick up and follow home. Finally, after more than an hour, Sam felt Dean stirring, and had never been happier to hear the expletive that always escaped from Dean's lips with his return to consciousness, followed by his name. Although it was barely more than a whisper, Sam thought it was one of the best sounds that he had ever heard.

"Sam? W'happened?"

"You got pretty sliced up by that creature. You've been out of it for more than an hour now. I was starting to worry."

"'kay?"

Sam knew that Dean was asking if he was okay, but didn't want Dean to have to worry about him too. He just shook his head and looked at Dean. "I'm fine Dean."

From the look that Dean gave him he knew that Dean didn't quite believe him, but he was too tired and cold to argue with him.

"S'cold"

"I know Dean. We got caught in the blizzard and couldn't make it back to the car, remember? We're in the old abandoned barn."

Dean just nodded his head, and then must have realized that that was a really bad plan, because his face was screwed up in pain. That looked snapped Sam back into reality. He didn't have time to dwell on his aching ribs or his throbbing head or his burning back. Dean was awake. Now he needed to warm him up and dress those wounds before they got infected. He shuffled out from behind Dean and started patting Dean's pockets.

"Don't put out on the first date, Sammy"

Sam snorted and continued right along with his search. "Since when?"

Dean was quiet for a moment, and then " touché"

Sam held up his prize, Dean's lighter, and had to smile. If Dean was cracking jokes then he was going to be alright. Right? Or was he just putting on that whole tough guy routine? Sam's smile quickly faded. Dean would be okay. He was going to make damn sure of that. Cracking some pieces off of the crates, Sam gathered up as much dry hay as he could find, and dragged one of the small feeding troughs over where Dean sat. After situating all of his flammables inside the small metal trough, he lit it up and watched it crackle and burn to life. After feeding it for a couple more minutes, he turned and grabbed his sweatshirt and zipped Dean into it, then grabbed his coat and threw it on.

"Sammy"

"Dean" this game was familiar.

"Going somewhere?"

Sam gave a sigh. "Dean, your chest is a mess. We don't have anything with us to help, not even a bottle of damn aspirin. I'm going to head for the house and bring back some supplies."

"Well help me up and I'll go with you."

"Dean, you are in no condition to be going anywhere. Just talking is making you exhausted. There's no way that you are making it to that house. Just stay here, warm up, and stay awake. Do you hear me? Keep those eyes open, alright?"

"You ordering me around Sammy?"

"Damn straight. And if I get back and find that you have moved more than 3 inches from that spot I will kick your ass."

"You wish."

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

"Seriously Dean. Stay put. The last thing I need is a brother who's injured _and_ lost in the snow."

"Alright, alright. I promise. And Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Be careful, alright?"

Sam knew that Dean hadn't believed him when he tried to tell him that he was alright. He could see it in Dean's eyes, that the last thing _he_ needed was a brother who was injured _and_ lost in the snow. "I'll be careful Dean. I promise." And with that, he stepped out into the swirling snow. He was instantly hit by how cold it was. His jacket didn't do a lot to keep him overly warm, but at least he'd be dry, well sort of. And with that thought, he began his trek.

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alright kiddies, how did you like chapter 2? let me know! chapter 3 is coming soon... 


	3. Chapter 3

sorry guys this is still the same chapter, but it got accidentally removed so i just reposted it!!

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A/N: hey guys! sorry this took so long, i just moved back up to school and into a house off campus, and let me just tell you, it takes alot out of you! there is so much to do! but here it is, chapter 3. i have a bunch of this written, and didn't really have a good spot to stop for chapters and things, so if the ending of this chapter seems a little awkward, then thats why. thanks for being patient, and i hope that i am able to get chapter 4 up in less time than i did this one. hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: i don't own the Winchester boys, which is a travesty in itself, but hey i can own a small piece of them when season one comes out on DVD sept 5!

**Brothers in Arms**

**Chapter 3 **

A half hour later he reached his destination. Kicking down the back door, Sam hurried into the house, thankful that he was out of the stinging snow and wind, at least for a little while.

His first order of business was a first aid kit, and took off in search of the bathroom. After checking it to make sure that it had everything that he would need, he moved onto the bedroom. Checking the closet and finding no clothes, he stripped the bed of its sheets and blankets and folded them, and then headed back down to the kitchen. He located a large garbage bag and placed his findings in it. That's when he noticed the smell. He opened the refrigerator and quickly slammed it shut again. These people sure left in a hurry, so fast in fact that they didn't have time to empty out the fridge. And boy did it reek! But the fact that there was food in the fridge gave Sam an idea, and he started pulling open cabinets and drawers. He came up with an unopened jar of peanut butter, 2 boxes of crackers, some pretzels, and eight-pack of bottled water, and several cans of tuna. Not the greatest combo, but at least they wouldn't be hungry. Okay, at least they wouldn't starve.

To top it all off, he found two flash lights stored under the sink, and he threw those into his bag of tricks as well. After tying off the bag he braced himself and then plunged back into the waiting iciness. He had been gone a long time, and he didn't want the fire to burn out before he got back.

If anything, the trek back to the barn seemed to be even worse than the trek to the house. The wind buffeted his body from every direction, and more than once he had to stop and get his bearings, afraid that he would loose his way. By the time he arrived back at the barn, Sam was pretty soaked through, and was again loosing the feeling in his limbs. Pushing the door open passed the snow drift that had accumulated during his absence, he noticed that the fire had burned down to little more than embers, but Dean had indeed followed orders.

"I think that this is the first time you've ever actually listened to me when I order you around."

He expected a snide comment, but when he didn't receive even a grunt in return, he hurriedly put down his bag of goods and was at his brothers' side. That was when he noticed that Dean's face was screwed up in pain.

"Dean? What's wrong?"

"I tried to reach over and grab some more wood for the fire," he ground out, "and my chest decided that that was definitely a bad plan."

"Shit Dean. Alright don't move. Let me handle things, alright?" Without waiting for an answer, Sam moved over to the bag, and dug out the med kit, the water, and a flashlight. Shaking out some aspirin he handed then to Dean, and held the water for him while he washed them down.

"Sorry, but this is all we've got until we get back to the car. I'm gonna get this fire started again and then we'll take care of that chest of yours."

"Don't worry about it. I'm fine."

When Sam just glared at him, he relented. "Or you could fix them up. Whatever."

Sam busied himself with getting the fire going. The last thing that he needed to worry about right now was getting hypothermia. Once the fire was crackling nicely, he turned once more to Dean's chest. Most of the bleeding had stopped, but Dean's little stunt with the firewood had opened up a couple, and Sam decided that only a couple gashes needed to be stitched. Setting his supplies down, he ripped off some of the bedding and wadded it up, handing it wordlessly to Dean. Dean, apparently, didn't get the hint.

"What the hell am I supposed to do with this?"

Sam just looked at him and held up the bottle of rubbing alcohol. "Bite down on that. This is going to hurt like a son of a bitch."

Dean took and the fabric and bit down on it. Sam was right; this was going to hurt like a bitch. Sam looked at his brother, watching for the sign that he was ready. Dean nodded, and Sam sent and apology to his brother with his eyes.

Dean's chest felt like it was on fire. He was clenching his fists so hard that he felt blood sliding down his palms where his fingernails had dug into his skin. He could feel Sam pushing against his upper chest, keeping him down. Through his own blurred vision, he could see Sam biting his lower lip, and loosing the battle to keep his tears at bay. God, Dean hated being the cause of those tears. But then a wave of fire passes over his chest, and he screamed around the gag, and he could seem how much his pain was hurting his brother. And then he couldn't think anymore, because this pain had finally pulled him down into the darkness.

God, Sam hated this. His brother was in so much pain, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Hell, he was the one inflicting it. He had to put a hand on Dean's chest to stop him from rearing up. He had to hold him down so hard, he probably left bruises. He could taste blood in his mouth where he had apparently but his lip too hard, and could do nothing about the tears he felt sliding down his face.

_God Dean, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry._ And then all of Dean's struggles ceased as he fell unconscious once more. Sam didn't know whether to be alarmed or grateful. Dean wouldn't be in pain anymore, but with the concussion that Sam was pretty sure Dean had, more time spent unconscious couldn't really be a good thing, could it? Sam shook his head. He was going to take advantage of this while he could. He liberally poured more of the alcohol on dean's chest, and then began to sew up the worst of the cuts. He smeared antibiotic cream on them all when he was done, and began ripping up the sheets to use as bandages when he felt dean stirring beside him.

"Hey, you back with me?" As much as he didn't want it to, his voice was wavering with concern.

"Shit. Remind me to never let you play nursemaid ever again. That hurt like a son of a bitch."

Sam looked away quickly, not wanting Dean to see the tears spring to his eyes. "It's not like I was trying to hurt you, you know. I had to do it, Dean. I _had _to."

Dean knew his brother had taken his words a little bit too much to heart, and now he was feeling like a jack-ass for hurting his brother yet again. "I know Sammy. I didn't mean to snap at you. It's just that I'm tired and I'm cold and I'm in pain right now and there is nothing more I would like to do than lounge on a comfortable bed with a pizza and a six pack. But we're out here, in an abandoned barn, in the middle of a blizzard, with some crazy ass creature still on the loose that can probably smell my blood from 10 miles away. So I'm just a little bit cranky right now.

Sam couldn't hide his smirk. "Jeez, Dean, is that all? You make it sound like we're in some kind of trouble or something."

Dean stared open-mouthed at Sam for a minute, and then let out a soft chuckle, only wincing a little when it pulled at his fresh stitches. "Bitch"

"Jerk." But Dean's wince had brought reality back to Sam, and he quickly went about finishing his task of ripping up the sheets. He turned to Dean, and again sent him an apologetic look. "This is going to hurt a little."

"Yeah yeah. Just get it over with."

alright so there it is, chapter 3. loved it? hated it? still on the fence? well let me know, i love hearing what you guys think...


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: so here it is!! the long awaited chapter 4!! i am soooooo sorry that it took this long to get this out, i just really didn't know where i was going with this story. but now i have a pretty good idea where this drama is going, and it shouldn't be long until i post the next chapter either!! oh i am so excited to finally have my muse back!! so thank you for all of you who reviewed this story and patiently waited for me to get my act together. so read on!! and review!!

Disclaimer: i still do not own the Winchester boys, and i cry myself to sleep every night because of it...**  
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**Chapter 4**

Sam quickly covered the wounds and bound Dean's ribs for good measure. There was a lot of bruising on his chest, and if Dean hadn't managed to fracture at least two or three rubs then he would be surprised. When he again met Dean's eyes, he realized that hurting a little might have been a bit of an understatement. His eyes were squeezed shut and his face was a grimace.

"I'm done Dean. You all right?"

"Oh yeah, I'm just freakin' peachy."

"Alright, well, you hungry? Cause let me just tell you, the cuisine that this place offers is just to die for."

Dean just looked at him like he had 3 heads. "What?"

Sam just shook his head. "Never mind. Crackers, pretzels, or tuna?"

"Crackers."

They sat quietly for a little while, munching on crackers until Sam saw Deans eyes start to droop. He added more wood to the fire, and went to get the aspirin. Shaking out two more, he handed them to Dean who gratefully took them and washed them down with what was left of his water bottle. Putting the medicine away, Sam returned to Deans side with the thick comforter that he had taken form the bedroom.

"Here, get under this and get some sleep. We'll try and make it out of here in the morning." Folding the old horse blanket under Dean's head as a pillow, he wrapped him up with the comforter.

Dean looked up at him. "Aren't you going to be cold?" That's when Dam realized that he only had a T-shirt on, and the chill _was_ starting to creep in. But Dean didn't need anything else to worry about. "No, I'm fine. I got a blanket for me too."

"Sleep Sammy. You need to sleep too." That made Sam smile. _Still trying to protect me, even when you're the one that's sliced all to hell with a concussion._ "Ii will Dean, in a little while. I'm just going to find some more wood for the fire and then I'll sleep."

But Dean was already asleep, his face loosing its taut lines of pain. _Alright, now to take care of this back._ He peeled off his T-shirt, and hissed in pain as it caught on his wounds. He soaked some of the extra sheet material with alcohol and reached around and started wiping it clean. _Damn! Dean was right, this really does hurt like a son of a bitch! _Gritting his teeth against the pain, he continued to clean his back as best he could. At least one of the gashes needed stitches, but he was _not_ about to attempt that himself. _I'm not that much of a masochist_. With the wounds as cleaned out as they were going to get under the circumstances, he threw his T-shirt back on, quickly followed by his jacket, cause damn! It really was getting cold out.

The next order of business was his head. He had taken a pretty good knock to the head out there during the fight. He gingerly reached behind his head and felt for the tell-tale lump. Jeeze! Alright, touching is definitely a bad plan! Not as big as he thought it would be, judging by the side of the marching band that decided to take residence in his head. Maybe the size of a golf ball. Golf ball he could deal with. He took out the bottle of aspirin and popped a few into his mouth, swallowing them dry.

_Alright, enough about me_. He looked around and spotted a couple more crates that he could use for firewood. It was going to be a long night, and as much as Sam hoped wasn't the case, they might not be able to make it back to the car tomorrow. He broke the crates down and made a pile next to Dean and the fire. Checking his watch, he saw that it had been over and hour since Dean had fallen asleep. _Concussions are not something to take lightly, boys_, their dad had once told them. No, they defiantly were not. Sam crouched down next to the blanketed figure that was his brother and gently shook him until Dean's eyes popped open.

"Sam? What the hell are you doing?"

Sam just cocked his head and gave him a sympathetic little smile. "Head injury. You know the drill. Name?"

Dean indeed did know the drill, and knew it well, probably far better than he should. "Dean Winchester."

"And who am I?"

"Sam Winchester."

"And what is your most beloved possession?"

"The Impala."

Sam smiled. Dean seemed pretty okay, a little groggy, but lucid. "Alright, now follow my finger." Dean's eyes were a little sluggish following his finger around, and his pupils were definitely different sizes. "Well you definitely have a concussion, but I think that you'll be okay."

"Mmmm hmmm. Sleep now."

"Yeah Dean, go back to sleep, I'll see you in about an hour," he said with a smirk. Dean just grumbled some nonsense as he turned over and went back to sleep.

As Sam sat beside Dean, tears suddenly sprang to his eyes. _What the hell dude?_ He angrily tried to scrub the tears away. _Dean is fine. He's going to be fine._ He repeated this over and over in his head. Slowly the tears subsided. _Man, I really must be tired. I mean, God, Dean woke up and he was lucid, and he is going to be fine. God, if Dean ever finds out about this he is never going to let me live it down._

He looked down at his brother. God, he was not used to seeing Dean this way. So pale, weak. Usually it was the other way around. He always woke up to Dean standing over him, concern written all over his face. That's just usually how it worked. Dean was the protector. Sam was the protected. God, Dean had saved his ass so many times, he had lost count. When Sam had first started hunting, Dean was always there watching his back. And Sam would not have lived to see the age of 10 had Dean not been there. Sam's memories of that hunt were hazy at best; he couldn't even remember what they were hunting. But it had been big. And strong. And it had gotten hold of him. In a matter of seconds it had grabbed him and given him a broken arm and 4 broken ribs, and its limb was pressed against his windpipe so he couldn't draw breath. As he lost consciousness he thought that he heard Dean screaming for him, but he didn't remember anything else before he woke up in the Hospital 3 days later. And there was Dean, hovering around his bed, looking more worried than Sam had ever seen him.

That was the first time that Sam had ever been really hurt, and Dean had confided in him later that he had been so scared, scared that he hadn't gotten there on time. Scared that he would never wake up. And from then on it was always like that. Sam was in trouble, Dean to the rescue. Ever since he had gotten back together with Dean, he seemed to need saving. Bloody Mary, the Skin Walker, the Wendigo, the Striga, all these things had almost gotten the best of him, but Dean was always there with a plan. And now, Dean had no plan. He was looking to Sam to come up with the plan. He was counting on Sam to get them out of this. And Sam was scared shitless. He was in-charge of Dean's life right now. His own life he was willing to gamble with, but not the life of his brother. If he did something wrong, made a wrong decision, then he didn't think that he would ever be able to forgive himself.

But underneath the scared shitless feeling, Sam felt good; confident even. His brother was counting on him, putting his trust into him, and to have Dean be so confident that he was going to get them out of this mess felt amazing. He turned to look at his brother again, and just watched him for a while. All of a sudden he felt his eyes droop and close, and he jerked himself awake. _Jeeze! What was I thinking? I need to stay awake to wake up Dean. Not to mention the concussion that I probably have myself. No sleeping, under any circumstances. Get it together Sam!_ Looking at his watch, he realized that it had been almost 2 hours since he had last woken Dean, and the fire had died down to embers yet again. He gathered up more wood and started the fire going again before turning back to Dean, already hearing the argument that Dean was going to give him for waking him up yet again. Man, it really was going to be a long night.

sooooooo...please review!! i want your feedback!!


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: well here is chapter 5. sorry that it took so long, and that it is so short. school and finals and moving back home for the break was a long process. but to appease you, i am giving you both chapter 5 and 6!! both of them are really short, sorry about that, but the other chapters should be too long in coming. hope that you enjoy them, and review review review!!

Disclaimer: Gosh darn it!! all i asked for for christmas was the winchester boys, wrapped up nicely in a bow and nothing else. did i get that? no. so alas, the brothers don't belong to me. yet...

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Brothers in Arms

Chapter 5

Needless to say, Dean was not exactly a happy camper to be woken up, mumbling something about bikini-clad women and a hot tub, but he succumbed to the checkup like Sam knew that he would. Letting Dean fall back to sleep, Sam took a lap around the old barn, stretching out muscles that had become cramped from the cold and his inactivity. He stopped in front of the back wall and stared, fascinated by what he saw.

The whole back wall was like a tribute to the past. Pitchforks and scythes, cattle yokes and hand plows, and many tools that Sam didn't recognize. He took down the pitchfork and imagined what it would have been like to work an entire field with just the implements before him. Putting the pitchfork back into its place, Sam noticed for the first time that his hands were stained with blood. Dean's blood. Suddenly Sam's mind flashed back to a conversation that he had had with Dean just hours before. The creature could track them, smell their blood, follow them to the barn! They had injured it, but probably only enough to make their getaway. It could be coming for them, at any moment it could burst through those doors.

God, how could he have been so stupid! He had left Dean alone, unprotected! It could have come for Dean at any point while he was gone and Dean wouldn't have stood a chance. He blanched at the possibility of loosing his brother due to his ignorance. If it was coming, Sam had to do something to slow it down. He looked around for anything that he could use, and grabbed several pieces of equipment before turning back to the door. Several pieces of equipment were shoved through the handles of the door, effectively jamming them if someone, or in this case _something, _tried to push them open. The same held true for several of the larger windows. It wouldn't give him long, but Sam figured that a little bit of time was better than being taken by surprise. He grabbed a pitchfork and settled in next to Dean to wait out the night.

Another hour passed, another cranky encounter with Dean, and Sam noticed that dawn was just starting its approach. Sam kept at his vigil, jerking himself awake every time he felt his eyelids droop. It was on his next lap around the barn that he felt it; it was nothing definitive, and Sam couldn't explain it. It was there and gone in almost an instant. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he started to make his way back to Dean. Halfway there, he felt it again. Stronger than the first time, he felt a sort of darkness filling his mind, something that just felt wrong. And this time, the feeling didn't really go away. _What the hell is going on?_ It wasn't a vision; at least he didn't think that it was. None of his other visions ever started out this way.

As he got back to Dean and once again settled the pitchfork in his hands, the feelings grew to an almost unbearable level, his whole body twitching from the pain that he was feeling. His brother woke up because of his agonized screams.

"Sam? Sam what's going on? What's wrong?"

But Sam couldn't answer him, so focused on what he was feeling inside his head instead. Cold. Pain. Anger. Hunger. And suddenly he knew what it was that he was feeling, although how and why was still a mystery to him, just as the barrage on the door started. Renewing his grip on the pitchfork, he saw in dismay that first one, then two of the wooden poles that he had shoved into the door handles splinter and crack. _Here we go_ he thought, as the door burst open.

review!


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: like i said in the previous chapter, sorry that these are so short, i have had a lot on my plate. but chapter 7 and stuff should not be that far off. read enjoy and review!

Disclaimer: still not mine...

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Brothers in Arms

Chapter 6

The creature stood snarling, its huge hulking form taking up much of the doorway. Sam moved away from Dean, forward and out of the corner that they were currently residing in, while still keeping himself between Dean and the creature. Sam could clearly see where it had been injured before, 3 shots to the upper chest. But clearly that was doing little to stop it. They had indeed just managed to piss it off.

"Jeeze, why can't these things that we hunt ever just lay down and die once and a while?"

The creature made a move towards Dean, but Sam stopped its progress by a quick jab with the pitchfork. "Whoa, ugly. You want him? Then you have to get through me first."

"Sam what the _hell_ are you doing?"

"Dean, just stay put, alright?" He didn't have time to say anything else because the creature chose that moment to charge at Sam. He saw it coming and side-stepped, slashing the tips across its back. What Sam was not prepared for was the speed at which it would retaliate. The blow to its back did nothing to slow it down. As soon as it was past Sam it whipped around and landed a blow to Sam's chest, sending him flying backwards and making him loose the grip that he had on the pitchfork.

Stunned, Sam could do nothing but lie there as the creature come for him again. He lifted him up by the neck, baring its sharp and deadly teeth. Sam instinctively kicked out and managed to connect with the creatures previous injuries, forcing it to loose his grip on Sam. Sam dropped heavily to the ground and scrambled backwards, away from the creature. His hand once again found the handle of the pitchfork and he grabbed it. As the creature once again came at him, Sam shoved the pitchfork in to the creature's stomach. It howled, and backed away, ripping the weapon from its flesh. Blood ran freely in dark rivers down the creature's body, but still it did not fall.

And again, Sam was overcome with this feeling, with this darkness. The pain ripped through his body. Pain. Anger. These were the emotions that filled his consciousness. He hunched over, trying to recover his breath and slow his pounding heart. That's when it struck.

It struck him in the chest, sending him flying backwards, and he collided with one of the support beams that held the barn up. As he slammed into the ground once again, he could hear Dean screaming out his name, and struggling to get up. Before he had a chance to utter a word to stop him, the creature was on him yet again, hauling him up and throwing him across the barn. He crashed through the remaining pile of wooden crates, his momentum only stopped as his body hit the far wall.

The last thing that Sam saw was the creature turning away from him and making his way over to a struggling Dean. And then Sam's world consisted of nothing more than darkness.

alright i know that i'm kind of evil for leaving it like this, but chapter 7 should be up pretty soon. let me know what you think so far...


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: so happy new year!! here is chapter 7, i told you that it wouldn't be long in coming!! there is going to be at least one more chapter, probably two after this one. again, i know that this is kind of short but hey, i use the time that i have!! thank you to everyone that have been reviewing! it really means alot to me to hear your feedback! to enjoy chapter 7, chapter 8 will be along sometime soon!!

Disclaimer: technically not mine, but isn't playing with them oh so much fun? ;)

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Brothers in Arms

Chapter 7

Pain flared through Sam's body as it ripped him away from unconsciousness. Pain. Anger. Hatred. All of these emotions were scorching his consciousness. _God, it can't even let me be unconscious in peace._ And that's when all of the pieces snapped back together. "Dean!"

He looked over at his brother. He had grabbed a piece of wood from the fire and was trying to stave off the creature with his makeshift torch. A glint of fire light on metal caught his eye, and he looked behind him. He had crashed into the wall full of tools. Without really thinking he grabbed a trowel and the old scythe, and hurried back to his brother.

Dean was not fairing so well. The creature had knocked the fiery weapon out of his hands, and had advanced on him. It grabbed Dean by the neck and lifted him until his face was level with that of the snarling creature, causing his feet to dangle in mid air about a foot off the ground. He struggled to pull in air, all the while still trying to defend himself. But all of his struggling did nothing but exhaust him. The creature showed no signs of releasing his newly acquired prey, and Dean was no longer able to draw the breath he needed through his abused windpipe. He had heard Sam shout his name, and was relieved that he was awake once again. But spots danced in front of his eyes, and he could hear nothing besides the blood rushing through his veins, desperate for oxygen. His last thought before succumbing to the darkness was _God, I hope that Sammy has a plan._

_Plan_ might have been too strong of a word. Sam was running on instinct and adrenaline. Something was hurting his brother, so therefore it deserved to die. It was as simple as that. Running towards the struggling Dean, he tested the weight and balance of the trowel in his hand. Dean may have been better than him at a lot of things, but knife throwing was something where his skills soared above and beyond Dean's.

He launched the tool at the creature, catching it in the middle of its back. It entered its flesh with a sickening crunch, and the creature howled with pain. It dropped Dean, who landed in a boneless heap. As soon as it turned towards its newest attacker, Sam didn't even hesitate. He just acted. He swung the scythe with all of his strength, catching the creature in the neck. Pain exploded through Sam's body as the creature was in its brief but final death throes. Apparently the creature wasn't going to go to the grave without a fight. Sam fell to the ground, writhing in the aftershocks of feeling the creature in pain and then its death. As the tremors subsided, Sam took a look at the dead creature that was now in two parts. John Winchesters voice cut through his head. _There are not many things, on this earth or beyond, that can withstand decapitation. It's a great last resort technique._ Boy was it ever. _When we find dad, Dean and I really need to thank him for that one._ Wait, where was…….?

"Dean!" His legs still felt like jelly, but he managed to make his way over to his big brother. He reached out a shaking hand and felt for a pulse, and after several tense seconds, he almost passed out from the relief he experienced when he felt one. He rolled him over and propped him up against his own chest. Sam just sat there, holding him, relishing in the sound of his brothers breathing, even if it was a little ragged. He was here, and he was alive. Sam had gotten to his brother on time. He sat there, holding Dean, until the cold started to get to him, and then he restarted the fire and moved Dean back to their corner, where he again sat with Dean resting against his chest. He noticed the bruising that was making itself known on Dean's neck. It looked like the bruises went deep. His earlier relief at finding Dean alive was now slowly starting to be replaced by worry. Dean had yet to wake up, hell he hadn't even moved since Sam had found him. _Please Dean. Please wake up._ Sam laughed to himself, realizing that several hours earlier they had been in this same position. "Come on Dean, your starting to make a habit of doing this. We've been here, done this, and the silence thing is really starting to get old."

But Dean did not stir. In fact it was about an hour later that Dean started showing signs of waking. It started with a moan, and then some movement. Finally Dean opened his eyes.

"Sammy?"

Even though Dean's voice sounded like sandpaper being rubbed together, it sounded amazing to Sam. "Yeah Dean, I'm here. I've got you. We're safe now."

He ran his fingers through Dean's hair, the soothing motion calming Dean as he grew tense after seeing the creature's body several feet away from where they were currently located. He tried to shift around and get a better look at his brother, remembering the beating Sam had taken before the creature turned on him, but his battered body wouldn't cooperate with him, and he once again sagged against his brother.

"Sammy? You okay?"

Sam snorted. Typical Dean. "Yeah, Dean. I'm okay."

but is he really? find out in the upcoming chapters, coming to a fanfiction website near you soon! please leave some comments if you have the time. thanks!!


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: alright, here it is, the LAST CHAPTER!!!!!!!! this story has taken me so much longer than anticipated to finish, but it is finally at an end. PHEW!! alright you know the deal. please read and review, your feedback means alot to me, and don't worry, i have a few little plot bunnies hoping around in my head so you will be hearing from me again really soon.

Disclaimor: not mine, have never been mine, don't see them being mine anytime in the near future.

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Brothers in Arms

Chapter 8

They sat there for another hour, just enjoying the feeling of each other there, alive. When Dean finally drifted off to sleep, Sam didn't protest. He needed his rest, and he would make to wake up Dean in another hour or so just in case.

He shifted Dean back to the floor, and slowly stood up, but even his slow rise didn't help. Dizzy, he leaned against the wall until the world stopped doing loop-da-loops. Once he gained his balance, he slowly moved away from Dean and towards the creature. God, he hurt! And not in a pop some aspirin and sleep it off kind of hurt. This was a deep, bone-jarring, mind-numbing kind of hurt. There wasn't a single part of him that wasn't in pain, just some places that hurt more than others. His back was killing him. Not only did he have gashed running down it, but now it was bound to be an interesting assortment of blacks and blues and purples. He could feel a wetness sliding across his skin, and he knew that the wounds had reopened. His hip was radiating pain, after taking the brunt of all of his falls, and his chest was on fire. He didn't even need to look to know that it was covered in a variety of bruises and scrapes. And if the pain every time that he breathed was any indication, he had several cracked, if not broken, ribs. And his head. Oh God, that was the most fun out of them all. The lump on his head could probably be upgraded to the size of a baseball now. It hurt just to blink. And not all of the pain he was experiencing came from being tossed around by the creature.

He had managed to limp his way over to where it lay. As he stood looking at it, he thought, _what the hell is happening to me now?_ Having visions was one thing, but this was like nothing he had ever experienced before. He had felt the creature coming, of this he was sure. He had been able to feel its emotions, but at what cost? But he didn't know if his subconscious was reaching out to the creature, or if somehow this creature had been able to reach out to him? All he knew was that it had been painful, so painful. More painful than any of his visions had ever been. Was this another facet of his powers? He dreaded to think that it was. Being able to sense when evil was near could be really helpful in their line of work, but at the cost of being incapacitated afterwards? And what if the more powerful said evil was increased what he felt from it? God this was making his head hurt. _Just focus on the task at hand._

But he couldn't. His head felt like it had been violated, filled with a presence that had left him tainted after it had been removed. He never wanted to feel that level of hatred again, but in their line of work, he knew that that was a damn near impossibility. He forced himself to concentrate on something else. _The body. I have to get rid of the body. _Grimacing in disgust and groaning in pain, he dragged the pieces of the creature, inch by agonizing inch, out towards the dilapidated stables that stood close to the barn. To his immense relief, he found an old gas can in the corner that must have been an emergency store for the tractor or something. He didn't really care. All that he cared about was that it was half full. He dragged the creature further in and hauled it up onto a pile of relatively dried wood that he had kicked together.

Sam looked around. The stable was sort of standing upright, with one of the walls missing and a big ass hole in the roof, but for the most part the corner that he was in right now had stayed mostly dry. Thank God for small favors. He liberally poured the gas onto the creature's body and dug out the lighter that he had in his pocket. As the body burst into flames, all Sam could do was stand there and watch. After a while he made his way back to his brother, waking him up and made sure that he was okay. With Dean again asleep, he stoked the fire and added some more wood.

God he was tired. He knew that he needed sleep, but with his head injury? He wasn't sure that that was a good plan. As he situated himself down next to his brother, he knew that it was inevitable. His body craved the rest that it had been denied. He pulled out his phone and quickly set the alarm for 2 hours, on the loudest setting possible. No sooner had he done that then he felt his eyes closing, and he drifted off to sleep.

The Next Day

Sam hauled Dean's ass through the doors of the local hospital. He was tired and he was in pain, more so than he had been early yesterday morning, and he was in no mood to listen to Dean gripe about not wanting to be here. As he called for a doctor and a wheelchair, he received a death glare from Dean, and heard him say something about not being an invalid and being able to walk his damn self to the room, and that was it. He didn't care how whiney he sounded.

"Dean, shut up. Your body is a mess right now, and I almost lost you numerous times within the last couple of days. So if you have any love for me what-so-ever, please just shut up and let the doctor look at you."

Dean just looked at him, shocked that he would question the love that he had for his brother, but he didn't say another word. A nurse came then, with a wheelchair that she helped Dean into, and that was it. Sam just couldn't take it anymore. Adrenaline was the only thing that had been keeping him going for the past couple of days. Adrenaline and fear; fear for Dean, and of the creature, and finally how the hell he was going to get them out of that hell hole. But now all of those problems were no longer problems, and all that adrenaline had finally left him as he watched Dean being lowered into that wheelchair. He felt his body shutting down, and he felt himself plummeting to the floor. And he heard Dean shout his name, and then he knew nothing at all.

He woke up with Dean's name on his lips. "Sammy? I'm right here bro." He slowly turned his head to the side to see Dean sitting in a chair by his bed. Wait, bed? Why was he the one lying…….? Oh. "Sam? You still with me over there?"

"Yeah Dean. Are you alright? What happened?"

"What happened? I'll tell you what happened. You collapsed, that's what happened. And I swear to God dude, if you ever pull that shit again, I will so beat the living crap out of you, you hear me?" Dean's words were angry, but one look in his eyes and you could see all of the love and……. fear?

"I'm sorry Dean"

"And another thing. Don't lie to me again Sammy. Next time I ask you if you're okay, you damn well better tell me the truth. I already got your wonderful list of injuries from the doctor, and let me just tell you, the length of the list alone was enough to tell me that you were not okay, let alone what it actually consisted of." He fiddled with the blanket that was on Sam's bed.

"Dean, I'm sorry."

"You better be." But the remark was said with a half smirk, taking the sting out of the words. They sat there for a while in silence, again just enjoying each others company, until Dean broke it with one little word.

"Thanks."

Sam just looked at him, his brows knit in confusion. "For what?"

"For saving my ass back there. I'm not used to, you know, being the one that needs saving, and I'm not real good at this talking thing, so I'm just saying. Thanks."

"Dean. We're more than brothers. We are a team, and I know that we will always be there for each other. And I know that you would do everything in your power to save me, until your last dying breath, and even then I don't think that would stop you. That you feel like it's your job to look after me, to keep me safe." Dean made to interrupt his brother, but Sam just held up a hand. "Please Dean, let me finish. I know all that. But you have to know that I feel the same way. I will never, ever be able to just stand by and watch while you get hurt. I will always be there for you Dean. Always."

"Yeah, well, you are always going to be the younger brother, and I will never stop feeling responsible for you. Case closed." And before Sam could say anything in response to that, Dean was up and moving, albeit slowly, towards the bed next to Sam's. As he settled in, he looked over to Sam.

"Jeeze, Sammy. You had to pick the one hospital around here that has the most uncomfortable beds to I have ever had an opportunity to lie in. And the nurses, Sam. Just wait until you see the nurses. Not a single hot one in the bunch. Typical little brother mistake. Picking the wrong hospital. I'm telling you Sammy, next time we are in a life or death situation, I am totally picking the hospital."

And with that Dean closed his eyes, and Sam knew that this colossal chick flick moment was over. And they were going to be just fine.

THE END

so what did you think? let me know...


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